Between Dreams and Hope
by pink-promise
Summary: Will Arthur's love for Ariadne stand strong enough against a mad man seeking them out for vengeance? Whole Crew & OC.   witty dialogue and exquisite prose/poetic style . FLUFF! Eames/Arthur/Ariadne love triangle. Tightly woven/complicated/ intriguing plot
1. Chapter 1:  Heartless wind keeps blowing

**Between Dreams and Hopes**

Prologue

Arthur has always kept his past a secret-Because he himself doesn't even know completely. His real past.

As his search for his real past and biological parents unravel, he also discovers something he's never believed in.

_**Love.**_

Will Arthur's love for Ariadne stand strong enough against Carter? The mad man, come from Limbo, willing to destroy their lives?

_Someone lurking in the shadows_

_Determined to break apart their love._

_Someone dark. Sinister. Powerful. Stronger._

_Willing to die to pay revenge__**.**_

_**Vengeance.**_

Whole Crew & OC

"_They all say good night or nothing at all, their words just whispers like empty wind blowing behind backs, whispering thoughts sleepily, before they fade into memory and thought. Their voices become remnants of sounds, noises. Playing and replaying and their faces just images… Just images."_

**Beware.**

Fast updates.

OOC.

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**December, one day before Christmas**

**Year 2009**

**11:12 p.m**

He has just missed the time for wishes by a minute.

Arthur is sitting on the sterile floor of his apartment. There are present wrapping all over the floor, the kind that makes crispy sounds when you tear them up and scrunch them in a ball to throw away. He muttered as he taped up the end of a small paper box with red paper, this was for James, the last load of presents he's polished for tomorrow.

The television on news channel is buzzing before him. When he glances around the apartment seems just like a hotel room out of his memory, out of a dream. There is a black leather notepad beside the unblended white telephone like a customary rented room and he breathes in the clean bed sheets behind that masquerade of lemon soap from the laundry. Arthur looks out his window. The New York lights glowed, glowing through the night, the endless night. The bright lights faded in and focused out… _Like a dream…._

He feels like the city is just a lie, a big, genius lie made beautiful in tall skyscrapers and electric bulbs, that feeling when the plane is landing and the sky seems upside down and the land is slanted, all the lights from the city are too straight in a line as if it were all an endless highway with an infinity of monochromatic streetlamps. Arthur's heart beats in the center of the city of New York, a city with ten million people, the same people riding the same subway in the morning and back at four o'clock in rush hour, the same people descending the same stairs, boarding the same train all over again. Like dice and numbers, thrown at random and disarranged so it looks different. He rubs his tired eyes and thinks that it's always the same ones sitting opposite of him to work, the same sad faces and same dark circles beneath their eyes.

_It's all the same._

He sighed. Closed his eyes. Christmas. It meant almost nothing to him but spending a day at Cobb's, his two children calling him uncle Artie. He'd feel old, old. There is the annual Christmas meal, part of "Cobb tradition", and Arthur brings the red wine and fruit punch for the kids. Except this year, there will be no Mal. They all loved Mal's apple caramel pie; it was the highlight of their Christmas dinner. Ever since Mal had committed suicide, Cobb had always be drifting in and out of his locked up memories and reality. 28-year old Arthur did not admit this, but inside he was feeling the same. But it did not matter to him. Nothing had ever changed. To Arthur, Christmas was always just like shattered candy pieces of old Christmas lights that were taken down a bit too roughly.

Arthur was born into a powerful wealthy family, an only child. He was the kid everybody envied; he had the newest games and best bike, but he was not a spoiled kid like everyone thought him to be. He grew strong, hard on the surface, through the long struggle of his parents' divorce, his mother's remarriage, and the car accident and then –not long after- her death.

His stepfather, Jon got rid of him like he was an embarrassment, like his brown hair of South Carolina descent shamed him. Arthur grew up in boarding school, strict rules became his father and the soft encouragements of a few teachers became his mother.

The idea of Christmas was taunting. Every year Arthur would go back "home" to his "family" who welcomed him warmly and saw him go with relieved expressions, as if a huge burden was suddenly taken off of them. Arthur's father, Jon, was strict, he had a stern face and Arthur remembered him tall like a Christmas tree, and his anger and disappointment in his voice always broke through Arthur's surface and hurt him right in the center.

Poor Arthur was to be reluctantly called for from boarding school, sent home, and forced to smile and greet his new half siblings like family. Half siblings, who he'd only see once a year -and he'd forget the names of-every Christmas.

**December 24****th****. Year 2000.**

**11:37 p.m**

It is one day before Christmas. He is 18, now. A week has passed since he received his acceptance letter to Harvard, a promising major in physics. It was also that same week that Seth had packed up all his things in a bag and left him, for good. Arthur had fallen madly into this abyss of confusion, love, choosing what was right. And following his heart, which just lead him to a dead end of harsh reality. They used to spend whole weekends, driving and showing each other their favorite places. Arthur had taken Seth to the open roof of a 77-floor business building, and they'd drink champagne and talk about their dreams.

_Drunk with foolish love Arthur vaguely remembered Seth's warm and jagged breaths tinted with alcohol, his ebony black hair, and this gold dragon tattoo, sprawled all over his powerful arms._

"_Is this what it feels like to fall in love," Seth had murmured. The high wind blew hard on them and suddenly Arthur feels like everything is healed, that nothing will ever matter again._

But harsh reality, on that brink of jealousy of celebrations and happy smiles of children sent Arthur's soul crashing right into a dead end.

Now again, it is another one of those nights right before Christmas. It is the 18th winter of his life. He is standing out alone on the balcony, looking over the city. He sees all the crooks and turns of the abandoned streets down below, and he thinks about Seth.

'Arthur'

It is the strong, daring voice of Jon, his stepdad. He is in an ebony black suit for Christmas, too formal for a family gathering. But he doesn't know. Arthur doesn't speak, right now. His head is drooping, the sharp wind is piercing his face, or perhaps, it's the tears, like peppermint against his skin. He looks at how the snowflakes shine as they fall past the lamplights; he tries to catch one on his fingertips. It melts disappears on his warm hands.

Jon is behind him now; his firm and rigid hands placed his heaving shoulder blades.

'You've acted like I've never existed, ever since we became your family. Me, your younger siblings Chris and Becca. I know, with your mother's death, the divorce, the boarding school, it was so difficult.

I'm asking you now, Arthur, that I hope you forgive me. Forgive us, for all the pain we've brought to you, Arthur-"

Arthur remembered the days when they were alone, only he and his mother. When his mother was still alive, in those warm summers, she'd try to coax Arthur into playing outdoors with the other boys, instead of reading his books. Sometimes he went, to make her happy. Sometimes, he didn't go at all.

Now, back on that dim, icy balcony, he faced Jon, and put on a smile.

"I owe you, and Bec and Chris, something I can't ever make up for. You can blame it on the teenage hormones."

He put on a laugh, this chiming but cynical laugh, and he stepped back in the room, as if everything was mended, as if everything she owed to him could all be repaid by a single apology.

_They all say good night or nothing at all, their words just whispers like empty wind blowing behind backs, whispering thoughts sleepily, before they fade into memory and thought. Their voices become remnants of sounds, noises. Playing and replaying and their faces just images… Just images._

_And now those ghosts, those empty faces, empty laughter and voices, descend like snowflakes, and they fall on slowly on Arthur's hazel eyelashes._

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	2. Chapter 2: Eames Calls Arthur

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Inception's characters etc.**

**Important!: I appreciate all REVIEWS! Would definitely get back to any reviewers and exchange critiques, if possible.**

**Year 2010.**

**September 17****th****.**

**5:00 a.m**

_Riiiiiiiiiiiing!_

The noise sank deep into his dream brought him over the surface, jolting him awake with frustration. He stirred, kicked his blanket off the white bed sheets and lunged for the phone.

The bottle of pills to fight his insomnia spilled over the carpet floor, along with little packages of instant coffee.

"What?" Arthur mumbled incohesively.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to youuu, loveee"

What the hell. It was Eames.

"Who the bloody hell calls people at 5 in the morning? Some of us actually sleep in the night, you know." Arthur was pissed, but Eames easygoing silliness took the better of him.

"Aww, darling, I just wanted to be a bit more celebrative. You've been acting like bullshit these past few days, thought I'd insert a bit of sunshine for you."

"Then, , I guess I must thank you. I apologize for being so impolite just now," His business mode was waking up and returning to him.

"How are we going to celebrate?" Sometimes Eames sounded like a quirky little nine year old, especially when he got so enthusiastic about something.

"What are you talking about."

"Arthur! Your 27th birthday, and you're just going to let it pass? 9'oclock sharp at the warehouse today. Be on time."

"…Eames, I swear you've got that childhood trapped in you."

The dead beeping of the machine answered his witty comment, and Arthur hung up. He wondered what the crew was up to this time. The warehouse was always the place for the serious stuff, except for a joke or two from Eames, but that was it. He disliked the idea of having any sort of celebration. Besides, they were not finished with the Fischer extraction mission yet.

Arthur splashed cold water on his face and plugged in the razor, as his lips turned up at the thought of Cobb in a party hat.

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	3. Chapter 3: Arthur sees his dead parents

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**Year 2012.**

**November 13****th****. 3:23 p.m**

Arthur is walking in an abandoned street, one that very much reminded him of Limbo. Once in awhile, his projections of Seth walked out of the old shops with shattered windows with a black acoustic slung across his wide shoulders. His golden tattoo is blinding under the sun, his deep blue eyes reflecting another Limbo itself.

Arthur walks past him.

Now he is striding towards a café, and there is his high school physics teacher waving at him, another projection.

This time Arthur chooses to walk in, and places himself on a wooden chair beside him.

"Ah…Always good to see my Arthur," took Arthur's hands with his own, calloused. "How are you?"

Arthur stumbled for something to say. He has this accent, this slurry, and slow, enunciated way of speaking. "I…everything is okay. You remember Cobb. He lectured at Harvard this one day recruiting people for his project, and I chose my own path. And now, I'm not regretful, at all, I guess. We've had our ups and downs, but you know that-"

"I mean, you know. About Seth." He was seeing Arthur's surfacing emotions through his eyes.

"That was over ten years ago, Mr. Haze."

He ran his hands through his hair and replied, "I'm sorry to hear that, Arthur. What about your family?"

"The same old same. I mean, actually, I haven't been in contact with them since I was nineteen. I saw Chris, once, about five years ago, on the news when he was arrested for some crime…"

Haze has an inquiring look, and says, "I'm not surprised." He runs his hands through his white hair. "Dear Arthur, there is something I have to show you. My biggest regret in life is not showing you when I was still living in the world, you know, Arthur. You rarely acknowledge your projections…Now, my pupil. I need you to use that Dream Machine, we must go a layer deeper…"

Mr. Haze was concentrating, trying to recall all the past.

Arthur shakes his head in disbelief. "No! Mr. Haze, I am not legalized to do that. This sedative may be too strong or too weak, it is not safe to go deeper in such a fragile frame of a dream like right now-" He is walking out the door now.

"Arthur. Please. What I am going to show you now, is going to change your life."

The confused man stops in his tracks, hands on the door, and changes his mind. Five minutes later they are both under, needles in their blood, the Dream Machine beeping…

They woke up to the deeper dream. Arthur finds himself in a park; it has two wooden benches off to the side, a forest of amber trees behind him. There is a happy family having a picnic in front of him, there is a father, broad and strong with hazel colored hair. He has a cloud shaped scar on his left arm, and he was smiling, this true genuine happiness. And the mother had long and wavy brunette hair and a beautiful figure, she was wearing a blue dotted dress.

The mother was dancing the little baby boy, and he was giggling with joy, saying something that sounded like "mama! Papa!" over and over again.

Now the baby turned so that Arthur could see his face, and he stared into his own. A younger version, of course. But they were the same hazel colored features and this strong determination look in the eyes.

'Little Arthur, do come back." The mother, no_, Arthur's_ mother, looked at the baby with concern.

He is taking everything in with disbelief, this handsome man who was his father, the beautiful lady, nothing like the ill cancer-struck woman who had left him ten years ago. Now he is walking towards them, running, a thousand thoughts dashing across his mind. He wants to say, look! I am Arthur. I am grown up now, don't you see?

Arthur is shaking all over, he is taking short breaths like there is no air left to breathe.

His parents, the young couple, are smiling at him. They are waving their hands. The young woman had her slender arms wrapped around the little child.

And slowly, everything faded away, the vision, the dream, disintegrated, faded into ashes and fell away, making the concrete floor under Arthur transparent, then dissolve, until he was falling, and jolted away as the time on the Dream Machine came to a stop.

He'd thought the minute he woke up he would ask Mr. Haze a million new questions, but instead he finds himself quiet.

Then once again he is falling asleep under a new dose of sedative, the Dream Machine restarted, and this time they are traveling in Mr. Haze's subconscious.

They were walking again, over a suspended bridge, then these stairs of infinity that overlapped each other until they arrived in a small court high up in the sky, similar to the warehouse. Arthur turns the knob of the glass door and Haze stops him.

'Shhh! No, goddamit! Don't do that. My projections are a danger to you. Carter might appear at any time, any second. He will find you, track you down, and perform extraction on you."

"Who is this Carter?" Arthur whispered back.

Haze squints and pointed to the scene through the glass panel. "Just watch."

Arthur places his hands against the cold glass and watches. There is Haze, a younger version of him, maybe when he was in his late twenties. There is something familiar about him, the way he tilts his head in deep thought and his paper thin lips unmoving.

There is a young man sitting opposite from young Haze, about the same age. Arthur identifies him as the young father in the dream from the picnic in the park, _his_ father. He is older, now. There are little bits of white hair on his head, and his eyes are looking down at the floor. He has this old faded photograph in his hands, and he's peeling the edges, as if unsure about something. Arthur glances at Haze, and Haze, as if reading Arthur's mind, nods his head. "Your biological father. Aiden."

As he observes the whole warehouse he sees to his surprise, the beautiful lady again, Helena, his mother. She is wearing these red high heels, and now she is wiping her face with a napkin. She is crying.

Arthur jumps, startled, as Aiden, his father, throws a wine glass and it crashes to the floor.

His voice is shaky, unsure, and afraid, as he shouts:

"Bloody hell! God, Haze. Do this now, or never. I cannot stand this decision myself for this long, how much do I need to convince you? Carter is going to track me down, extract me, even. He's going to do anything to destroy us. He'll go straight into the safe of my mind and dial the combination. And then, and then-" He takes a sharp breath. "You know, please just do this. I can't let anyone find little Arthur, or Helena."

A soft feminine voice rings through the violent warehouse, her mother Helena. "Anything for our child. Anything. But Aiden, when you wake up, will you still remember us? Me, our child, the memories…"

Young Haze finally looks up and speaks. The sound of his voice is deep and lonely like a well. "No. After I'm done performing Deduction on him, when he wakes up we won't remember you anymore. He will remember his past, just not the memories with you. My job-he wants me-to go into his mind and extract and destroy all the memories with you in them. Including Arthur. The Deduction I'm going to perform on him, is undoable, Helena. You must understand that. Are you sure?

Aiden grunted yes. Helena made a desperate sound, something between a 'yes' and 'no…don't do this.'

Arthur digs in hard to his own sweaty palm, and he keeps watching, trying to piece everything together.

Haze, beside him, tugs Arthur to leave.

"It is not safe here anymore for us. Come on. We need to stimulate free fall."

"Waking up now? Haze, just this isn't going to explain whatever you are trying to tell me-"

And they wake up.

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	4. Chapter 4: Arthur's violent side

**Year 1989, Sunday morning 9:00 a.m**

It's early in the summer, Arthur is seven now. It is raining outside, a thunderstorm hitting Seattle, and he was sitting on the floor playing board games to make his mother happy. To do something more normal, like a little kid should. But now mommy was in the kitchen making coffee, the faint sound of radio, playing mommy's favorite song, made him feel happy.

_He looks out the window, and slowly places his little hands against the tall glass. His warm breath fogs up the glass and he draws a little hole with his fingers and looks outside. Thunder and the sound of rain splattering on the roof made him feel safe, ensured him that mommy would be home with him, that everything will be all right._

_On those days when the blinding sunlight seeped through the windowpanes, though, his little heart would leap, leap with nausea. Mommy would make him go outside to the playground and play with the neighbor's kids, and he would be shoved onto the sand and kicked so hard. Then he'd go back home with stained clothing and be chastened for not being careful._

He hears mommy talking on the phone in the kitchen, he could tell from her voice that something was wrong. Little Arthur crept behind the doors and listens. He doesn't understand every word that adults said but he is still clever enough to know that mommy is talking to Uncle Haze. He wasn't really his uncle, but they all called him uncle because he was a close bond to the family.

Uncle Haze's voice is desperate, like a thunderstorm, he is shouting over the phone. There is a little crease between mommy's eyebrows, the one she got when she was mad, worried. Everything else that they said just seemed like mile-long words, and little Arthur goes back to his room to watch the rain.

"Artie, dear." Mommy is knocking on the door. She turns the doorknob, and Arthur is sitting on the bed by the window side.

"You're going to go live with Uncle Haze for awhile, okay?" Mommy strokes Arthur's thin, hazel hair and wraps her arms around him.

_The rain is still pouring, somewhere off in the distance, thunder strikes and lightning leaks through a dark cloud to split open a child's hope._

"Mommy will be back, to pick you up, and we will both be happy, and come back home again, with Daddy. You would be happy then, wouldn't you, Arthur?"

Tears are leaking from his shuteyes, and he says yes. _Yes, he will be happy again…_

**Year 1992, Thursday afternoon 2:00 p.m**

Arthur is ten. The summer heat of the afternoon sun is blazing hot, and his white formal shirt is soaked with sweat. The white aroma of her mother's wedding party seemed more like a funeral to him. Mother said she'd come back to get him from Uncle Haze's with father by her side but she broke her promise again. By now he doesn't care, he's numb to the core and father is just a faint image replaying in his mind, an image that haunts him in his sleep and sets him apart from his classmates. Arthur's stepdad, the groom, is dressed in a black sagging suit that makes him look like a lecturer at the funeral and her mother, the bride, just seems like an empty, lost ghost, wandering around, that godforsaken smile never leaves her tiresome face.

"Oh, Becca sis, look. It's Arthur!" Chris, his new half-brother, snickers and pokes his neat hair, all brushed to the side by his maid.

"Aww, he's all dressed up!" Becca runs up from her pretty group of friends and sneers, "Look at his black bow! He thinks he's so handsome."

"Just like his dad," Chris adds.

"I heard his dad committed suicide," Becca exclaims, as if Arthur was deaf and unaware of what she was saying.

"No, he was an idiot fool, don't you know, Dad told us once, his father was crazy, I think. He didn't even remember Arthur's mom or Arthur."

"Oh yeah, now I remember! And his dad is so strange, he has this huge tattoo over his back, like a bad guy."

Now Arthur is fuming up inside, they think he is afraid, they think he doesn't know how to beat people up. He hates how people talk about his father, he hates how people say that his mother had made the worst choice of all during her days with Arthur's real father and marrying Jon, now his stepdad, was the best choice she'd ever made in her life. Arthur has cried enough, when no one could see him. But now he has passed his holding limits and all he can think in his head is revenge.

Arthur steps back and lunges forward on Chris, knocking over a table of iced champagne and little desserts, and now he's pounding his chubby pale face with his fists, and Chris is crying for help and a little part of Arthur, his desperate, angry side, smiles at the fat boy's pain. Becca is screaming, running to find a grown up, but Arthur doesn't mind. Chris's lips are now ruby red and split but Arthur doesn't care, he just hits harder, letting that desolation building up inside him all out, and he feels so carefree, it feels so good. Arthur keeps punching, in the air, as Jon his stepfather pulls him harshly away from the injured, battered boy. Arthur smiles when he sees Chris's left eye welting up and another red bump on his cheek. The next thing he knows he's knocked unconscious by his enraged stepfather and that's when little Arthur really starts to despise him.

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	5. Chapter 5:Combined power of Eames & Cobb

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Inception's characters etc.**

**Important!: I appreciate all REVIEWS! Would definitely get back to any reviewers and exchange critiques, if possible.**

Arthur's really depressed in this chapter, but it's also one of the best chapters.

Cobb and Ariadne FINALLY come into the story at this point, rather than random outside characters.

**Year 2012. December 1****st****. Tuesday 5:00 a.m.**

Arthur is sitting on a stool seat in the dark aroma of the bar and all that he can think about is how insane is past few days of life has been, so insane that he does not even understand it, so insane and out of order, and this time he cannot go ahead and straighten it all out, like misplaced papers, this time, he's tired of it all. A tall glass of scotch, now empty, lies knocked over on the table beside him. The faint, upbeat is the only thing that keeps him from toppling over the edge. The bar is absolutely empty today, but he doesn't realize that it's almost five in the morning and most have gone home to sleep. Not a single person present, except for a bartender busying himself under the cupboard. It was so vacant, too vacant. It just reminded Arthur painfully of bad flashbacks, his alcoholic stepfather, and he half smiles inside to forgive him a little, who knew how strong alcohol could cure a misery, _even if it was just for now._

_Arthur touches slowly all the empty bottles lying around him, the background blurs and the jazz music plays in. he sees tiny circles of lights like bokeh behind the transparent glass, like a fantasy. This is all so beautiful. Arthur cannot imagine what his life will be like back in his sterile, unlived apartment, too big and vacant for a man lost in betrayal._

Arthur's breath speeds up when he thinks of all the things uncle Haze had shown to him. The enclosed park, the picnic, the happy family, his childhood. And the warehouse, the argument, a guy called Carter, Helena his beautiful crying mother and the determined man Aiden who was his real father. An argument, about…what was it again? Trying to be extracted of memories, so that Carter who was after them would not trace the projections to hurt Arthur. His slow functioning mind, drugged with alcohol, slowly pieces everything together unconsciously, and Arthur doesn't even know. No, that would not be the right away to word it. He knew, but he didn't care. Arthur raises the next bottle of expensive whatever-it-was-called and chugged it all in, emptying what was remained. _I don't belong anywhere. I don't have a family. _Now he's wondering, why did Carter have to go after his biological parents, revenge? Vengeance. And why his parents have to hide and risk the world for him. He begins to hate them for doing that; he begins to hate his current, lonesome life.

His empty and vague thoughts are deeply interrupted by the bartender standing opposite from him. Arthur's enraged by how clear the bartender's voice sounded, as if his life was all in order, nothing wrong with his dark past, nothing wrong with now.

"You've be drinking over excessively to the point that your life might be in haphazard. That's it, stop drinking, do you not know how strong scotch is, and you've drunken over five…"

Arthur takes a glass bottle and smashes it on the floor, as the glass shatters his pain overrides him again and he compares himself to the broken bottle, the same. His voice is French accented, it happens when he's drunk and slurred. "Goddamit, who are you to tell me what to do, fuck off before I smash this whole hell into nothing!"

_Everything comes back to him, like a rising tide of people, swallowing him under and Arthur sobs on the floor. For a moment he remembers Seth again, that goddamn idiot who robbed the soul of out him. That guy who betrayed every single pledge and replaced it with only regrets._

He recalls that messed up childhood of his, that life, kicked around, told what to do, criticized for every step that he makes. It makes him feel better when he rants this way rather than imagine the tiny, nonexistent piece of hope waiting for him at the other end of the tunnel, one that he's too tired to endure through. His ranting, abandons those emotions and when they get too strong he shuts down like a tired machine and just stops working. He can't and will not ever see the sun again, or perhaps, it will rise for every person except for him, this bar and these bottles of magic could get him through another day, through that painful cycle of life until nirvana finds him and tells his heart to stop beating.

He's just about to smash open a new bottle of something that would hopefully drug him out when a husky, raw voice constrained his actions. This was a voice he knew, this was one that inside a little soft side of him, he had craved to just hear this masculine voice beside him, telling him to just close his eyes and forget it all for just a moment. A voice that seems strong enough for him to lean on and not care for a single thing, because in the end and waking up to the space of empty dreams everything will be all right. **Eames.** Some little part of him reminded Arthur so much of Seth his past lover that all he could do is avoid him, avoid the mistakes he's made.

Eames handed the bartender a twenty dollar bill to pay reparations for the damage the poor drunk guy's been doing and he tells the confused bartender, "I'll take charge of him from here".

"That's it, enough." A strong hand, Eames' hand, is holding Arthur's shoulders down and the bottles of pure magic were taken away from him.

"go away, fuck off," Arthur tries to fight back, kicking despairingly in nothing as he's dragged and carried out of the bar under the streetlights and taken into a yellow taxi.

"That isn't going to work with me, darling." The stupid Brit's way of talking got Arthur swinging blindly in the air like a hunter who had lost its target and he's silenced again by the husky voice and he's thinking it works better than all those bottles of alcohol added together.

**5:30 a.m**

After what seemed like hours of struggling and fighting Eames had finally gotten Arthur safe into a nearby hotel, and now Arthur's sleeping soundlessly on the couch, wasted, lost, angry.

Eames fishes his black phone from his shirt pocket and dials a number his hands are so trained to do.

"Hello?" Cobb's cheery voice answered, the sound of his two children's laughter in the background.

"Cobb, we've got a crisis."

The cheery man stepped out of his house into the business room, closes the door and sighed loudly, despaired that he'd have to leave his two kids with Miles again, and he puts the phone on loudspeaker. "Talk to me."

"I found Arthur drinking in a bar in downtown five in the morning today, Cobb. Now he's wasted on the couch in the hotel room and I'm afraid I'll have to buy the whole damn room out because he's thrown up just about at every corner."

"I'll be catch the next plane today. Be there by tonight."

Arthur is rarely out of character, and always composed himself. Whenever he lost it, the world would know that something had gone very wrong, something so bad that Arthur himself can't even deal with.

**10:00 a.m**

When Cobb gets there early in the morning Arthur is already awake, sitting on the couch staring at the carpet floor. There is a smell of nauseous alcohol, deodorant, and cigarettes. He could immediately identify this it as Eames and a very depressed Arthur. He walks into the kitchen where Eames is digging through the fridge for a meager meal.

Eames feels Dom Cobb's presence behind his back, and he just tells him, "Go look for yourself." He points to the silent man on the couch.

Cobb sighed. "So all you're going to do is find him a place to stay, and my job is to do all the psychological work?"

"Well, dearest, you know I wasn't always the best consultant. And Arthur wouldn't take me seriously, anyway."

Cobb raises his eyebrows when he sees Eames' mouthful of chips. "Fine."

"Yes, that's it, love. And by the way, we're not your children, table manners is the last thing in consideration for me at the moment, darling."

The expensive leather couch creaks as Dom sinks into it beside the dejected point man. The familiar fatherly voice rings in Arthur's mind.

"Let's make this easier for the both of us" Cobb says. "Get straight to the point. I promise you Arthur, this will be over in no time if you'll just start talking to me."

_But it will not be over, Arthur thinks. The past cannot be concealed in a history book. It will always come back to haunt him day and night, make him feel regretful and useless, and every day he would think about Helena his mother's beautiful smile, and die a little more inside. And Carter, whoever he is, will also haunt him. What if, for instance, Carter finds his way out of Limbo, and comes to seek revenge on himself, and what if Carter tracks his friends down to get to him? The whole crew would be in instant jeopardy. Dangerous projections surrounding him, he will not be able to build dreams and be in them anymore like Cobb. The only place where he feels like he belongs now, in the crew. It's over, it's all over. Heat radiating from Dom's presence warms him until he thinks he wants to throw up all over again._

Eames is standing at the doorway now, his big frame blocking the sunlight from hitting the living room. "Arthur, love. Do you want this the hard way? We can go into your subconscious now, we can find what we are looking for."

"God. It's over. It's all over." Arthur whispers, as he smoothes the wrinkles of his leather jacket.

The other two frustrated and consternated men walked out of the living room, thinking of another plan.

"This isn't going to work, Eames." Cobb says, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Got a better plan?"

"Yes, in fact, I do…" Eames trails off. He hands Cobb the telephone. "Call Ariadne."

Cobb smirks and says, "So Ariadne is our final hope, is she?"

"It's feminine potential, when it gets to emotional nonsense like this," says Eames.

"All right. I'll go find her rather than call, it's going to take more than a call to get her here." Cobb opens the door and leaves.

Arthur's inside is shattered into tiny pieces, and to put them all back together would be as complex and complicated as building five layers of dreams. If there is one last person who can help fix that, then it is petite and genius Ariadne. But…the question is, _can_ she? The two befuddled men can only stare at each other in wonderment as they think about it…

**Review please? (:**

**I'll return the favor. I've got the next chapter planned already, so keep close.**


	6. Chapter 6: Ariadne encounters Carter

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Inception's characters etc.**

**Review, please?**

The story is slowly unraveling, finally some action appearing in this chapter. Mainly Ariadne. Totally OOC for her this chapter, I hope it doesn't bother anyone. Do let me know if it's too confusing so I can edit the story.

**Year 2012. December 1****st**** Tuesday 3:00 p.m.**

Ariadne is walking solo along the streets of Times Square, the lighted buildings glare at her as she passes by and she is overwhelmed by how different this street contrasted with the ancient architecture in Paris, where she studies in college. The winter frigid wind blew at her hard, and she buttoned up her coat and wrapped her printed scarf around her shoulders. Ever since the Fischer job, she has never been feeling normal. As if something was missing inside of her, something that she should expect, something that will dive into her arms, something empty and missing. Secretly admitting it, she feels lonely like a water drop falling into a dark well. "Quick, give me a kiss," Arthur had said it so casually, so business-like. "Did that work?" She had asked, surprised with his sudden move. Now what hurts her more is the fact that the kiss was unreal, in a dream, a secret buried in the exploding asphalt of dreams, and Arthur, Arthur is far away. He hasn't even called her after the two week no contact rule.

_There is a plastic Christmas tree in the center square and beautiful chloroform presents disguised in glittery wrappings and red ribbons, and her insides turn into ash and she just wants to cry. What is the point of such a delightful Christmas tree without someone to admire it with, to wrap her arms around and lean on, and feel safe? All the people in the streets seem to be blurring into pairs, and she breaks a little more._

She passes by a breathtaking glass, reflective skyscraper and sighs, wondering whether she would ever graduate, wondering where she would end up working, earning money that felt useless now, ever since the dream designing changed her life forever. When she walks she half expects to run into someone familiar, she walks up the stairs to the grand bridge and she feels something snap inside of her like a broken string when the bridge is so still, so mechanical, and so perfect. She wants to change the physics of reality, make bridges waltz apart and dance in the asphalt, but the streets are straight and the stairs do not turn and move, There is something missing…

Her dejected dreamy thoughts come to a stop as she hears her petite red phone begin to buzz on the inside of her pea coat. Her architectural, passionate self returns when she sees her business-like co-worker, Dom Cobb, calling her at the other end of the phone.

"Hey, Ariadne!"

"Hello! Haha…I miss hearing your voice! How is James and Phillipa?"  
"They are…great. You look great in your new scarf, by the way."

"What? How do you know?" Ariadne was surprised. Then she saw Dom standing opposite from her, waving now. Suddenly the days of the lessons, the training, the dream building, the day at the outdoor café, everything comes back to her. She laughs. There seems to be an invisible mirror between them and it breaks as she walks right into Cobb's friendly hug.

"Hey Dom! Weren't you at Eames' hotel room just a while ago, before this call?"

"Oh, yeah. I thought I'd come find you anyway, you might not know how to get to the hotel."

Ariadne feels something strange about Cobb's explanation, as if he was making a lie, but she doesn't push him.

They get on a yellow taxi, which seems oddly brand new and somewhat different from the normal, traffic-stricken New York taxis that have this faded sad yellow color on them. Ariadne is just about to ask something when she feels a weapon click beside her, and the last thing she remembers is looking into the eyes of the familiar Dom Cobb, pointing the machine rifle on her forehead.

"What—what…what are you doing Dom?" Her voice was wavering with fear, but she manages to keep it relatively calm.

The man smirked. "Your old friend Cobb's extracted and under my hands. I'm a skilled forger, you should know that, it's a piece of cake for me to change into any appearance I choose to be, and I chose to be…Dom Cobb for a day. Though, not a father like him, oh God, I feel so bad for him. Now, it's your turn to be extracted, wouldn't that be fun, now?"

_Eames, Eames has this skill too. Could this possibly be him? But no, Eames would never do this sort of thing to the crew, to her. Then what was the problem? Was this related to why she had been feeling like a dream ever since she woke up today…or not at all…?_

"_You always find yourself wound up in the middle of a dream, you never remember the beginning…" She remembers Dom's words during the training, ringing in her head. She did not recall how she got to the Times Square at all, she somehow ended up in the middle of it all. In fact, the pretty square was disintegrating in little unstable parts at the moment._

Ariadne looks at the man, with Cobb's familiar smiling eyes, who was pointing the gun to her head. This was definitely not the real Cobb. As if reading her mind, the skilled forger leans forward so that she has nowhere else to escape or cast her eyes, and he whispers, "My name is **Carter.** You are so _belle_, Ariadne. No wonder Arthur's subconscious was full of _you_. If you cooperate with me and tell me the information I need, then I will let you go. Ariadne gasped a little, she did not know who this person was, or how he has found out her name but if it were all a dream, all she needed to do was shoot the man and herself, then they would all wake up.

"Why…why did you extract Cobb?"

"Dear, I can't tell you _everything_. But you should know that your co-workers are a very bad influence on you. I used to know Arthur's father, we worked on this…dream-exploring thing. As a team. But God, who knew they would turn against me, steal my idea, and kill my lover…"

Ariadne was so intrigued, so afraid.

"Arthur never told me any of this," She gasped.

"Ah. Really? I think, Ari, it's because…He's never known either. He doesn't even know who his real father was, for God's sake. But now, that's enough of Arthur's past. I need to go on a…very essential mission. Ariadne, you know that Cobb has always turned against you. You know that Eames is a complete liar, and Arthur is completely lost. Work with us, be on my time. I promise you, what you learn after this, will be worth your whole life with Cobb."

"Okay then. But you promise I'll be released after this…"

Carter nods his head, yes.

"Then, quick, give me a kiss…" Ariadne leaned forward and Carter, confused and unaware of this deception, closed his eyes and his hands around the pistol loosen a little…

Ariadne acts fast and quickly grabs the pistol from relaxed grip and points it straight on Carter's forehead, his expression surprised, enraged, and somewhat impressed by the petite girl. "Sorry, but I don't date forgers," Now it's Ariadne's turn to smile, and the gunfire sounds through the whole, ghost-like and empty city of dreams. Next she fires at the startled taxi driver who probably is working for Carter himself, and then she puts the bullet in her own head and wakes up panting loudly, cold sweat soaking her white blouse and her brunette hair, and she hurriedly scrambles to her silver totem. She sighed, relieved, seeing the totem spin to a stop, and she sits back into her cushioned sofa, wondering what the dream was all about. What if Carter had gone into her memories? What if he had gone into her subconscious and extracted her? She wouldn't be able to know. And what happens to Cobb, where is he now? Then a harsh truth hits her and she begins to shake all over. _Carter is not just a part of dreams. If he is able to find Ariadne in the world of dreams, he must know where she is, at this moment. Or worse, he could be hurting the rest of the crew this instant. Dom could be in his hands, subdued, useless and unconscious. What will she do now? What will happen to her now…_

Little does she know that this was the same dream that Arthur has gotten during that drunk hangover in the Eames hotel, and that he's sitting on the floor worried, sitting for the crew and for Ariadne, instead of himself. This would make her fall into shame. But she doesn't know about Carter's vengeance plan, or Arthur's past. She doesn't know as much as him, and so all she can do is tremble and curl up on the floor with cold sweat dripping down her forehead.

**Review please? :) I will read your stories.**


	7. Chapter 7: Time Lapse and The Escape

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Inception characters,**

**Review, please?**

**This chapter includes: Arthur, Eames, YUSUF, Cobb (somehow), Carter, Ariadne.**

**Year 2012. December 1****st **** Tuesday 9:00 p.m.**

**New York City**

Back in Eames' hotel room, things have been about the same, except that Yusuf had come in after receiving the phone call from Cobb complaining about Arthur's strange mood swing. Arthur was still hardly talking, but Eames has managed to get some proper food in him, and now he was saying things in a while. Arthur's mind was now spinning to a total new direction. Eames tears open a new package of crisps and says:

"Darling, we ought to be wondering where in the world Dom has gone. He's left hours ago to get Ariadne, and they're both still not back. Something is wrong."

"Yes. Arthur. We really need to know what's going on." Yusuf chimes in.

Arthur sighs. _Everything is wrong. Everything. He just had a dream, and he's seen Becca, his half sister… She was there in the taxi, forging the taxi driver. Probably working for Carter, now. According to Carter in the dream, Cobb's already extracted. If he doesn't think up a plan soon, the information Carter's gotten will probably trace him to their hotel that they are staying at. Maybe their warehouse too, and Ariadne would be his second target. Perhaps she already is. Or was. The idea makes Arthur shiver all over again; a strange pain like tiny water drops in a deep well._

"Ariadne."

"Darling, _what_ about Ariadne?"

"She's in danger."

Eames almost chokes on his mouthful of food. Yusuf jumps. "What's that?"

"I had a dream. No, not a dream. Extraction was attempted on me, at that bar yesterday night. Some guy, Carter, has gotten in my subconscious and went through my files of Memory. It's a miracle I still have all my memories, he didn't perform Deduction and take them away, he only went through the memories. He also got me very drunk, that's all I know."

"Wait a second, stop there. I knew someone was behind this, who would think _Arthur_ could drink himself to sleep? And…_who_ is this Carter?"

"I'm asking myself the same question. All I know is that he was some sort of enemy of my biological parents'."

"_Bloody hell."_

Arthur shoots Eames a look. "Stop the swearing, Mr. Eames."

"I apologize, _Arthur_." A smile was playing at the ends of Eames' lips. "Now tell me, what was the dream, or…what do you remember about the extraction?"

"We were in a taxi. Carter is, it seems like, some kind of forger. But he has more high-tech equipment than us; the dream machine is only his basic tool." A shadow passed through Arthur's face, he creases his eyebrows together as he admits, "Carter he…He forged himself as my father. My _real_ father. I thought it would be the end to all that I've ever suffered. I thought my father had finally come to find me. I was too lost in it all, too confused. It must mean that my father was also extracted by him. Vaguely, I got on the taxi with Carter and that's when he began _negotiating_ things with me."

Eames trashed the food wrapping, sitting down on the wooden chair facing the window. He placed his elbows on his knees and his big hands on his face. Yusuf just sat back in the couch, contemplating all the things Arthur has said.

"This is one hell of a story, Arthur. Was Cobb in that extraction dream?"

"No. But he probably is, now. After me, Cobb will be the closest Carter will ever get to our team's secret skills and such. He won't know about you, Mr. Eames, because you've just joined the team. But it's possible he will soon, if he's extracted Cobb."

"Wouldn't _your_ memories give me away?"

This is when Arthur really smiles, showing his dimples. "But no, mine are militarized well. While Cobb's are pretty much useless now that Mal and his children keep reflecting in his missions. When Carter tried extracting on me, my subconscious fought back, more effectively than I thought." Arthur's smile fades just as fast as it appeared, as he says, "They've brought Carter under, but only temporarily. I must never let my guard down now. If Carter had traced me all the way to that bar last night, then he's bound to trace me again."

Arthur stands up all of a sudden, jerking Eames hand with him. Eames was surprised how soft Arthur's hands felt.  
"Come on, Yusuf, we need to get out of here." Arthur says.

Yusuf says, "You better explain all this to me when we find a safe place to stay. If we're going to fight this together then-"

"Shhh! Follow. I'll explain later"

His voice is washed out as they duck and they hear gunshot ringing out the door as if it was getting closer and closer. Arthur runs to grab his gun and they burst through the door to the hotel hallway. The elevator beeps, signaling a new passenger on the elevator getting off at the 13th floor, their floor. "The stairs!" Arthur hissed. Arthur kicks open the emergency stairs door, both hands on the gun. He swivels around twice, making sure no one is there. "I'll watch your back!" Eames shouted. Yusuf takes the lead while Eames and Arthur stands back to back, covering the dark areas where people may lurk.

No one is there. At least not yet. They descend the stairs. When they get to the lobby, their path is blocked by what seemed like hundreds of tourists. "Damn," Eames swore under his breath. He was silenced by a cold stare from Arthur. _Right. As if Arthur is still a legible Christian. _He thought.

"Eames, Yusuf. **People are after us this minute**. Do you have any secret places we can stay low until we think of another plan?"

Eames rubbed his stubble on his unshaved chin. "Yes, actually I do. A nice little house all the way in China. It's just the flight ticket costs a bloody lot."

"Get us there now. Act fast."

Eames rolls his eyes. Okay.

"Did we shake them off?" Yusuf asks.

"No. We need to blend in."

"No problem," Eames winks. He looks around, spots a teenage girl in a tourist hat and puts on his seductive voice and gentleman expression. "Hey, can I borrow that hat for a second?"

The girl is surprised, definitely. Arthur half-smirks at Eames undefeatable talent. In no time he's back in a tourist hat. He hands Yusuf something to camouflage, as he surveys Arthur's clean, polished three piece suit and frowns.  
"Arthur, love. That isn't going to work quite well in terms of blending in with the crowd."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"At least I look a bit more like I'm a happy tourist having fun in my tropical inspired shirt."

"Mr. Eames there is no space for unprofessional jokes at this moment." Arthur snaps. _This is the only scenario where Eames' hideous shirts come to use. _He hurriedly takes off the Armani suit and replaces it with the 'I LOVE NY' T-shirt Eames handed him.

"Come on then. Eames, I think we must bring the whole crew with us to escape Carter this time."

Eames rolled his eyes. "You're spending all the money I've earned from the Fischer job! It's slipping out of my wallet even faster than _poker_."

Yusuf just chuckled in silence.

"Mr. Eames, know that you were the one to volunteer paying. And besides, you have the discount card on behalf of Saito now."

"I was never good at math, but I know the difference between how much two tickets costs compared to tickets for the whole crew." Eames mumbled.

"Don't worry. We're not going to buy first class anyway, that would make us stand out too much. Do you have your false passport IDs?"

And just like that, Arthur managed to break free of the teasing that was making him so uncomfortable. He took out his pure black phone and dialed Ariadne's number.

"Hello?" Arthur jumped as he heard her voice. It was raspy and weak, and he grasped the phone tightly, worried.  
"Ariadne! Are you feeling alright?"

"No, Arthur. I was just about to call you. Something bad has happened to Dom, and I'd just woken up in my apartment hardly remembering what happened to myself. I think I've been extracted, there's a bruise on my arm…"

Arthur couldn't stand the things she was saying, not now. The blood completely rushed away from his face. His heart leaped as he grabbed the phone harder like it would shatter into dust any moment. Eames looked at him with concern.

"Ariadne." Arthur whispered. "Hurry, get out of there, right now. Try to get to the airport safely, and meet the crew at Entrance One. You have about one hour before the time lapse breaks and Carter traces you down. Where is Cobb?"

The other end of the line is silent save for slight static before Ariadne replies dejectedly, "Cobb is gone."

Arthur's tone does not change but slightly wavers as he says, "That's what I perceived."

**Review please? :)**

Summary:

Yusuf comes into the picture. And Arthur finally speaks! (Yes fangirls.) But now the whole team is in danger as the time lapse between the dream world and reality breaks. Carter traces Arthur to his hotel room, but Arthur & Eames manages to run away just in time. Arthur urges Ariadne to escape from her apartment and meet at the airport to a safe place before coming up with a valid plan.


	8. Chapter 8: The Crew Goes to China

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of Inception characters. Though I wish I did :S**

**Please review? :)**

**Year 2012. December 3****rd**** Thursday 5:30 a.m.**

**Shanghai, China**

Arthur stares out the plane window. He squints as the sunset becomes eminent and sparks shine through the textured windowpane. He thinks about the past few days, and wonders what his parents were really like. He vaguely remembers his mother Helena, when he was four years old. He wishes that he could have held on to his mother on all those lonely and cold nights where she sang him lullabies, and breathe deep for a minute and just listen.

A lullaby that she'd hum to him when the dreams enveloped his small and frail body,

_Have you ever listened to the starlight? I can hear her sing of things I'd never dreamed of. She told me that she woke up to the most beautiful shade of bruised purple against stark white in the sunset splattered sky. I miss watching her with you._

He sighed. Some days rain falls like sun drops, and other days it falls on empty ears.

"_I never know where to look when the sun is setting. But it is amazing how the sunset is exactly facing the windowpane."_

Ariadne's voice interrupts his scattered thoughts. She had just woken up after the flight attendant announced breakfast in five minutes. Ariadne rubbed her eyes and rearranged her scarf. She stretched and curled up in her seat and yawned. Arthur felt like the air was getting so stuffy, but he didn't mind. This, this moment here with Ariadne curled up beside him and the sunset streaming against his face, this moment could last forever. If only.

Ariadne tells Arthur the dream that she was in, and how she had met Carter who forged to be Cobb, and the little story about how she had escaped _without_ even a militarized subconscious. Amusement danced in Arthur's eyes as he listened. Then he told her about his extraction dream, and how their dreams corresponded perfectly with each other.

"Why is Carter after us?" She whispered.

"I…really am not sure. When we get to Eames' hiding place, that's something we need to immediately find out."

When the plane lands, Eames glances up from the business magazine he was reading and catches Arthur in a bemused, relaxed expression, looking out the plane window at the beautiful Asian city.

"What's up, dear?" Eames can't help but include some amusement in his inquirement.

"Mr. Eames, I must say I am quite impressed by the back-up plans you seem to acquire up your sleeves."

"Yes darling. You should know that by now. Ariadne love, you knew that didn't you?"

When they arrive at the airport, Ariadne runs straight to the transparent window glass and looks around.

"Guys, look! This design is so amazing!"

Arthur walked over, examining the slanted iridescent panels on the high ceiling.

"There are elements that remind me of the Louvre." Arthur noted. Ariadne beamed, happy that there was a person on the team that could talk about architecture with her.

Soon they have hauled their small bags holding the most necessary belongings up a taxi and Eames had exhausted the tiny collection of Chinese words that he did know to the driver, in order to get themselves to the place they needed to go.

It is only Arthur's professional self-composure that stops him from breaking into a big laugh when he hears Eames awkwardly speaking the Asian language.

"Eh? What's the matter? Why don't you try this next time?" Eames was offended.

"Yeah. Next time in Paris, I'll practice my f_rancais_."

Ariadne smiled and nudged Arthur's sleeve. "Paris?"

"Yeah, Paris is one of my favorite cities."

Soon they pass by the Bund, an ancient but French influenced area. Couples walked by sharing umbrellas and the rain pattered on the window, making the scene outside like an impressionist painting. They passed by the Pearl Tower, a tall building with three spheres, the third one glowing with bright lights.

"Arthur, look at that! I think I'm inspired for my next project now." She ruffled Eames's messy hair. "Thanks for bringing us here!"

Eames groaned. "Darlings, don't get started on architectural talk again. Godammit, why doesn't anyone around know something about poker, or wine, or something of the sort."

When the taxi screeches to a stop, a beautiful neighborhood came into view. "Oh wow, Eames! This house is beautiful!" Ariadne said, her face full of amazement.

Eames finds the key and unlocks the unused house, and it reveals four nicely polished floors. A grand spiral staircase greeted them and a dazzling chandelier reflecting tiny pieces of transparent light against the mirror, everything looked absolutely breathtaking.

"Alright. So shall we get started right away or what?" Arthur says a few moments, later, after Ariadne had gushed and praised Eames for every corner of the house and its "marvelous design".

Eames nodded, stretched and groaned. "I can never escape from this job, now can I?"

Ariadne retrieved a few chairs and they all gathered together in the futuristic inspired living room. Arthur sits next to Ariadne while Eames switched his hard chair for the sofa. The unused couch groaned in response.

"So, so far we know that Cobb has been extracted already by this Carter." Eames summarized for them, after an hour of planning.

"Yes. But how?" Ariadne asked.

"Cobb volunteered to go find you in your apartment earlier this week. He thought you'd be able to help Arthur out on his…problems."

"Oh god." Ariadne whispered. "If only I knew me and Arthur had the same dream."

Eames frowned. "Don't worry. At least you both got out and made it back un-extracted. That corn on the cob, I mean, Dom, has some problems to deal with. How are we going to rescue him?"

Ariadne said, "We need Cobb on our team in order to fight Carter."

"No," Arthur interrupted. "That is what Carter wants us to do. He is using Cobb as our bait to extract all of us. There must be another plan."

Arthur got up and came back with a white board he found on the floor. He began making complicated sketches and scribbling notes on it. Eames and Ariadne could only watch in consternation.

Eames shook his head. _"We're still not getting to the base of the problem. We need to know who Carter is. How are we going to do that without putting ourselves in complete danger?"_

"There is only way." Arthur's eyes shone of determination. "You will all have to meet Haze."

This caught Eames's attention. "_Haze_? How does your physics teacher have to do with anything?"

Arthur sighed. "He…he knew my father. And my past, better than I do."

"Yes that is the only way." Ariadne agreed, smiling. She took Arthur's hand, which made him jump in surprise. "I'm so glad you aren't like Cobb. It was so difficult getting him to tell me about his memories." She opened the PASIV dream machine and Arthur began installing devices to ensure their safety. Soon they are drifting asleep, the IV needles inserted in their wrists. What Ariadne sees after this, completely changes how she used to think about Arthur. Whether it is a good thing or not, who knows….

Chapter Summary:

After Arthur connects all the events together, he realizes they are in danger. Eames takes them all to China to hide and come up with a plan. Ariadne tells Arthur about her dream on the plane. They realize Cobb has been extracted and is in control by Carter. They've decided to go into Arthur's subconscious to find Haze, the only man who knows about Arthur's past and who Carter is.

Ohh. Ariadne kind of starts to really like Arthur in this chapter. And vice versa XD

**Please review? :)**


	9. Chapter 9: Why Carter is An Enemy

**If you fave, then please review. :)**

**Outline: **This chapter goes deeper, into Arthur's mind! At the end of the previous chapter, they open the PASIV dream machine to find Haze, their last hope who can help them make things right with Carter.

**Dream level one: In Arthur's subconscious**

They woke up sputtering in the rain. The streetlights danced by and their golden reflections appear in the newborn rain puddles. "Your mind is beautiful." Ariadne told Arthur. His heart leaped and he wondered how he really felt about Ariadne. But he wasn't sure…

As they pass by, the nostalgic, ruined city became more and more real. They walk on a street, the same one where Arthur had met Haze in the café. Ariadne sees a powerfully built man strolling past them, he has a golden tattoo sprawled over his arms and ebony black hair.

She nudged Eames. "Whose that projection?"

Eames chuckled. "That's Arthur's ex-boyfriend. His name is Seth."

"_**What?**_" Ariadne nearly tripped over herself as she heard this. _How could Arthur, all composed and who seemed emotionless, ever be with this guy? _Ariadne couldn't imagine Arthur…with anybody but his business folder and a stern face. And even if Arthur was with someone, she never expected that person to be a man.

"Don't worry Ariadne. He's not gay anymore. Hahaha." Eames smirked.

"There is Haze. Let's go find him." Arthur started walking to the café where the projection was waiting for them, ignoring what they were saying about him.

"Ah…Arthur is back to find me. And you have company!" Haze put down a book and stood up from the coffee table, patting Arthur on the back.

"Mr. Haze, meet Ariadne and Eames. My co-workers." Arthur motioned for them to sit down.

"Well, well. Nice to meet you all… And you, Ariadne, I've heard of you quite a bit already from Arthur."

Ariadne blushed. _Arthur talked about me with Haze? What would be so fascinating about me that he would say? She suddenly wanted to know._

They all sat down around the café table. Arthur ordered American classic espresso, Ariadne got vanilla mocha and Eames ordered "something strong", as he said.

Eames gulped down his drink, whatever was in it, and leaned back in his chair. "Mr. Haze, we have a very big problem."

"And what is that problem?" Haze leaned forward he could almost smell Eames alcohol tainted breath.

"Carter has extracted Cobb. He's using him as bait to lure the rest of us in."

Haze gazed up at Eames. "I'm not surprised. Where is he now?"

"We don't have a clue. But probably still in New York, under Carter's hands. He's not going to kill him, not until he talks to one of us first."

"But how do you know?"

Ariadne explains to Haze about the dream where she had met Carter who had extracted and forged to be Cobb, and how Arthur had the exact same dream. She tells Haze that she and Arthur both got out safely. She ran her hands through her long wavy hair. "What we need to know now is…why is Carter after us? And what did we do to him that he makes him want to pay revenge on us?"

"That's not something I can explain clearly all in one sitting." Haze exhaled loudly. "I guess I'll have to make it as brief as possible. The reason I know Arthur's past, well, is because, I was very close with his biological parents. You probably don't know this, but Arthur did not grow up with his real father or mother." By now, Haze peers at Arthur, as if seeking confirmation.

"Yeah. I don't remember my father very clearly. I don't know what had happened to him; some people say he's committed suicide. When I asked my mother, she would just shake her head and tell me that he's coming back for us. I was sent by my mother to live with Haze when I was six or seven. She told me she would come back for me, with my father by our side. But that never happened. Afterwards, she remarried, this guy called Jon, my stepfather-"

"Oh, Jon. That old stick in the mud." Eames interrupts. Haze shoots him a demanding look and shuts him up.

Arthur continues. "…And I've lived with them ever since. Only for a short while though; after my mother passed away from the car accident, Jon sent me away to boarding school. That was the last I've ever seen of them."

Ariadne gasped at this sophisticated man before him, spilling out all his past and everything he knew and ever suffered. "Wow. I'd never guess that from you." Ariadne whispered.

Haze nodded in agreement. "It's a lot you've gone through, Arthur. And for you to be here, right now, with us, I am so proud. But half of what you said isn't the truth, it's only what you've gotten from your stepdad. I will now tell you what really happened."

Eames and Ariadne sipped their drinks and prepared their minds for another mind-blowing and complicated story. Haze takes off his glasses and rubs the lenses with a cloth before he continues. "Arthur, you were probably too young to remember exactly who your father was. He was…actually, the first individual to grasp the idea of the PASIV dream machine and do something with it. When your father and me were in college in Boston, we received a letter from the United States government. In the letter, the government wanted to hire intellectuals from all over the world to work on a high tech project, something about planting ideas in people's minds and building cities in dreams. First we thought it was nonsense. But as our classmates all went off one by one, we thought we'd give it a try as well. The pay was very promising. When we took up the task, we realized how deep in trouble we have gotten ourselves. The moment we walked into their experiment quarters, the officials locked us in. They'd force us to work, research, and experiment the high technology."

Haze cleared his throat, drinking his bottle of water before continuing.

"Of course, it wasn't as bad as prison. We received very high salaries, and I finally had a chance to send most of the money back to my suffering family in India. It's also where your father Aiden met Helena, and where I'd met my wife. There was hardly a reason for most of us to go out during the breaks, because dreaming was just so addicting. It almost became an obsession. Our teammates would drug themselves and build cities in their sleep, and dreaming became their reality… Years went by, and we realized we'd been in the research team for nearly eight years. Later on, more people were recruited into the research project. There came Carter, and later, Dom Cobb and Mal. That is when they began abusing and doing horrid things with the new technology. There was no one around to stop them. People on our team started to disappear. A rumor went around that the government was on a top-secret mission: to capture high powers of other countries and performing Inception on them. To plant an idea in their minds…And I suspected Carter was behind it all. My suspicion had finally come true when I overheard Carter negotiating his plan with the president about planning to take down China and Russia through this new technology.

Your father, and me we realized something was wrong by then. Those who also heard of the top-secret plan escaped successfully, and some were captured, brought back, and murdered or punished harshly by the government. But a small group of us managed to escape it all. In that group were your mother, Helena, your father, and I. And Dom Cobb and Mal. We were about 35, while Cobb and Mal were only 18 thenWhen my lover did not make it out safely, Hell. I didn't know what to think. I saw with my own eyes as the government dragged her back in and tortured her to tell them where we had escaped. She refused to speak, and so they killed her with no hesitation. A true hatred developed slowly in me, a hatred for Carter, I swore killing him would not be enough. I swore one day I'd torture the ones he loved around him, to death, before killing him with my own hands.

But those who remained, we managed to escape it all. We stole the most recent version of the PASIV dream machine, and some other devices. Ever since we'd live with false IDs, trying to save ourselves and the world from going into full-on war." 

Haze looks up. Eames was rubbing his stubble on his chin, contemplating and thinking hard. Ariadne crossed and uncrossed her legs, amazed at the story she'd just heard from haze. Arthur was boiling inside, why didn't he know about this earlier? Why had he chosen to ignore Haze every time he passed by him in his dreams? This haunting truth, all of this, was too big to be contained in just a dream. It was reality. The café was stunningly quiet, except for the faint buzzing of the coffee blender and footsteps from time to time.

"Of course, this is only the beginning of everything. I can only tell you _so little_. Because, I am a person out of the past. Just a mere projection in Arthur's subconscious.

"Then how are we going to find out more? If we're going to fight Carter we will need to know as much as we can." Ariadne says.

Eames groaned, he was really using his brain. "Surely, Arthur's childhood memories would contain some, if not most, of his father's information, which will reveal what his father was up to. It's just bloody difficult to get that close to the core."

"God, then we need to get there. We need to find Arthur's memories, especially the section of his lifetime when he lived with me. When you find it, search for me. I will tell you as much as I can there."

"Wait, whose subconscious are we going into again?" Ariadne asked, her _classic _question.

"Mine. My memories. Extraction this time, except we'll leave out the part where you destroy the memories. Just go through them. Eames can perform Extraction." Beads of sweat were forming on Arthur's forehead.

"Good. Okay. How do we wake up?" Ariadne got up, looking around her surroundings.

"I know there's a cliff somewhere in Arthur's mind." Eames said, certain. "Follow."

Soon they get to an abstract landscape. A clock seems to fly past them. Words in swirls and tornadoes floated around the bottom of the cliff. _This is the Cliff of Options._

"Hold hands. I count to three, and we jump together." Arthur informed everyone. The first hand he took hold of was Ariadne's. He squeezed her small hand. "Don't worry, Ariadne. Remember this is just a dream. Just look into my eyes."

Ariadne nodded. Okay.

"One…two…three…jump!"

And they were enveloped in pure velocity.

The three people jolted awake back in Eames' Chinese villa. Arthur tore off the IV needle piercing his veins and quickly worked to remove Ariadne's and Eames's.

"Are you feeling all right?" Arthur asked Ariadne concernedly.

She smiled. "I'm fine. That was the most beautiful cliff I've ever seen, Arthur."

Eames went to grab some water. When he came back, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Guys. We need to call Saito. He can send help for us, over to Carter. It could buy us some time before Carter completely realizes that we're not even in New York City anymore. It also keeps Cobb safe."

. "True. Call Saito." Arthur nodded. "So when are we going to start on the extraction?"

"Ah, all the work. Let me chill a bit before we get working again. Arthur has such a militarized subconscious, it's going to take a lot of energy to fight them all out when I go through his memories."

Just then, as if right on cue, Ariadne, from the kitchen, called them over. "Since we're in China, let's go on a little tour!"

Eames grinned. Time for fun. Arthur loosened his tie and took off his vest, from his classic three piece suit. "I know exactly where to go."

**Review! This chapter took forever! DX**

**Summary: **After meeting Haze, he tells the crew about just WHY Carter would be after them. Not all of the truth is unraveled just yet, but their next extraction job will tell them the rest.


	10. Chapter 10: Arthur can use chopsticks!

**Please give me a review! :) **

**Outline: The crew goes takes a little holiday…but not quite.**

**Shanghai, China 5:00 p.m. **

"Eames, your house is sure far away from all the touring sites. I know the perfect place, but it's probably an hour's drive from here. This city is huge." Arthur murmured, examining the map of Shanghai. Their location was very off to the side of the big city, almost off the map page, while downtown and the real urban areas were located on the other side.

"Gee, sorry. But I'll tell you this, these houses here are the best villas you'll ever find in the city, darling."

Later they drove up to the big city, the sun was beginning to go down, and the lights hanging from the trees alongside the street were starting to flash. Ariadne leaned against the cold car window, looking outside. "Why don't we park the car and walk? It's beautiful outside."

Eames, driving, looked around and saw a whole row of amazing pubs. "Darling, I think that's a great idea."

They parked the car and got off in the center of the city, where lightscameraflash seemed to dominate the area. Eames walked in the front with the map, and Arthur and Ariadne following awkwardly in the back. Arthur looked down at his polished shoes, then at Ariadne's slender hands, swaying beside him. He wanted so much to hold her hand… He slowly touched Ariadne's hands, and she looked up in surprise.

"Hey." Arthur smiled his lopsided smile.

Ariadne looked up into his translucent eyes, reflecting the beautiful lights of the city like a mirror. She hesitated for a while, searching his eyes for a lingering impression… "Hey." She smiled back. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh." Arthur scratched his head, embarrassed. "Nothing, really. Don't you just love this place? This street we're walking on is the Nanjing road. It's a famous historical site, lasting through out the Sino Japanese war."

Ariadne grinned. This was more like him. But she shivered in a newfound joy. She decided that she had feelings for Arthur, but she kept it to herself, at least for now… Her warm thoughts were interrupted as Arthur took her hand. A tingling feeling spread through her as she felt how perfectly his hands felt in hers, although she had such petit hands.

"So where do you guys want to eat for dinner?" Eames loud voice boomed. He turned around casually, only to see Ariadne's hands entwined in Arthur's. He whistled and turned back, humming to himself. Suddenly he felt almost…lonely. In the busiest and most popular street in the world, he was alone. Every person who knew him would only see his outside. His real self was hidden by a masquerade of foolish grins and insolent remarks. They thought he was a ladies man and liked to spend his days soaked in a bar, gambling, drinking. They all thought he hated long-term relationships, because he was a _womanizer_. But little did they know it was because he had to escape somewhere, a place where no one got hurt. Where love and feelings didn't directly get to him and make him feel hurt. But the truth is, what he did all day only hurts one person, and that is himself. All that drinking, to submerge to a different world where nothing mattered. To gamble, just so he would feel accomplished and happy, even if it was only for a moment. To meet new people, and never to stay in a relationship for too long, just to not get hurt. All this, only one person knew. Only one person knew him, and it was Arthur.

Eames hated seeing Arthur and Ariadne so untroubled, so blissful. Half of him wished he was the one beside Arthur, telling him of all the glorious things and pretty places. The other half of him silently cried, accepting his despairing fate. He would beam in happiness, if Arthur felt happy. That's all he needed, and he was glad they were on another mission. Eames really wanted to see Arthur's past and to get to know him more.

Arthur's dark hair, and long eyelashes, which turns blonde in the sunlight, and his eyes, squinting up at the blinding sky, they have an undermineable shine. And the way his fingers moved, working a rubric cube in the warehouse. And his voice, smooth and slurry while he talked in determination. But Eames learned that Arthur's voice turns low and husky when he's relaxed. And Arthur's tie, oh that tie! He'd always loosen it, and lean back in his chair when he was fatigued, and prop his feet on his desk and rest his interweaved hands on his stomach, before giving a completely witty comment.

Silently, Eames wished Arthur were his. Eames had never been gay, or even close to it. Arthur wouldn't have ever guessed Eames's feelings for him. Though Eames had teased and played with Arthur more than once, Arthur had never taken him seriously. Besides, he was the _ladies man._

_Ariadne was the only one who could make Arthur's heart skip a beat in happiness. _

But for now, no one should see himself like this, not now. Eames thought. He put on his usual, mystifying expression, and swiveled back, talking in his normal, upbeat voice: "Say, how many of you want to eat Chinese food tonight?"

They walked into a building, one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city.

"This is the Shanghai World Financial Center," Arthur whispered to Ariadne, who nodded, amazed. "This is 101 floors high and more than 1,600 feet tall.

"Ni hao, greetings. How may I help you?" A woman, covered heavily in make up, said from the Help Desk.

"Is there a restaurant up here?" Eames smirked. His emotions were long tucked away and hidden from the entire world to find.

"Yes, follow me." The woman led them to an elevator with gold swirls and studs reflecting white light. As the elevator door closed behind them, she smiled at the three visitors.

"Here to tour? This is the tallest building in China," The woman gestured. "It is the third tallest in the world, about 1,614 feet tall."

Ariadne squeezed Arthur's hand. _You were right._

"The restaurants here are the best in the world. I'm guessing you are going to the Chinese cuisine? It's in the 88th floor. If you do, I highly recommend sitting near the window. You can see all of Shanghai, and even the bordering cities up there. It's the perfect spot for couples, very romantic." The woman looked at Arthur and Ariadne.

As they heard this, they immediately dropped and separated their hands. Eames noticed from the reflection of the mirror, that Arthur's lips were pressed in a hard, tense line. Ariadne was blushing.

They stepped out of the elevator, and into, what Ariadne thinks, the most beautiful place on Earth. The restaurant was tinted in a pretty purple hue, little floating lily pads greeted them at the entrance, as if smiling and saying welcome. The soft music, the sound of the Chinese zither, played in the background. They tried avoiding the more concealed seats and went for the center of the restaurant, near a small artificial fountain. Arthur sat next to Eames, while Ariadne sat opposite from Arthur on the other side.

"Mmm… this is delicious!" Ariadne crooned, picking up another adorned rice bun awkwardly, with chopsticks.

Eames chuckled. "I love their dim sum. Try this one. You too, Arthur." He pointed to the other plate, filled with little cakes shaped like lotus flowers, embellished with pink dressing. Then he sat back, taking in the scene. Arthur had those chopsticks between his fingers, so swiftly. As if he's used them before, though of course this was his very first time. Eames wondered. He'd never really realized how much he loved Arthur, until now. Really, credits to whoever said trips to faraway places can help you figure out who you are. He picked up his chopsticks clumsily, trying to get a slippery garnished bun. "Ughh, screw it," He growled, putting away one of the chopsticks and using the other to skew his food. "That's more decent." He mumbled, while Arthur and Ariadne laughed.

Beautiful little desserts and vegetables kept coming, and they were made so beautifully that Ariadne felt sorry to eat them at all. They were like little pieces of artwork, all made and designed on a plate! She took pictures of all the different dishes, taking a mental note to use them as inspiration for her next architectural project.

"I need to use the bathroom," She said, standing up. Arthur looked up, worried. "You sure you don't want me to come?"

Eames groaned. "Gee, darling, give the girl some personal space."

Arthur almost felt like blushing, and sat down again. "Fine. Be careful, Ariadne."

The two men were left in awkward silence. "So…" They both began, at the same time. Arthur coughed and looked away. Eames drank his water.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Arthur suddenly turned, staring intensely at Eames.

"Did anyone tell you that you have the longest eyelashes, darling." Eames didn't know what else to say. It was always just so hard for him to speak his true feelings. Instead, he said something totally expected.

"Tchh…" Arthur mumbled.

"How do you really feel about Ariadne, darling?" Eames asked.

"…I don't really know. Ever since that kiss in the dream, I can't seem to…stop thinking about her."

Eames nodded, hurt. "I see."

"Why?"

"Arthur…You know me well."

"Yes, I do. And I can tell something's bothering you, ever since we got on that plane. Why are you so upset, so hurt? You don't need to always hide your feelings like that, Mr. Eames."

Eames was taken back by this soothing comment. His husky raw voice almost wavered. "Arthur…What would you think if I said...If I said…That...I really like you? Bloody hell, no, not just _like_. God, I love you Arthur. Ever since I met you, even before the Fischer job. Arthur." He trailed off, glad that he'd finally said it.

Arthur gave a little start, nearly knocking over his glass. His heart thudded loudly, he felt like it was going to leap through his throat any second. "Do you, Eames?" He touched the tablecloth and leaned forward. "How come you've… never told me?"

Eames exhaled slowly. He shook his head and looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm starting to think, I might as well leave all of you, or else we're going to get more hurt. I might as well leave now, before things get so serious."

"No! Mr. Eames, you can't leave. Not now, when Carter is tracking us down this minute."

"Speaking of Carter…why isn't Ariadne back yet? It's been a whole half hour." Eames checked his watch and frowned.

The two men got up in an instant. Arthur threw down his credit card on the desk and they strode off to search for her.

"You check this floor to 50, I'll do the rest. Meet up at the lobby!" Arthur shouted, worried.

"Got it, darling." Eames ran off. He turned the corner, following the bathroom sign, and busted through the door with the red dress symbol. Two women applying mascara at the mirror screamed, dropping their make up.

"Oops, wrong door! Sorry!" Eames apologized sheepishly, backing away quickly and going to the next floor.

Ten minutes later, they met up back at the lobby, each person looking at the other, in hope of finding a slight sliver of hope.

Eames stern face told Arthur no.

He gave out a shout, kneeling to the floor. "_**Where the hell is she**_?"

Eames put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Calm down. We'll-"

Arthur's iPhone began to ring. _Non, je ne regretted pas…_

Arthur took out his buzzing black phone and slid over the touch screen. He heard Carter's voice booming through the little speakers.

"Nice to hear from you again, Arthur." There was something wrong with Carter's voice. It was sounded so…victorious.

"Arthur, if you want your little girlfriend back, you'd better listen closely. Ariadne ran right into my trap, oh dear. If you want her to survive then hurry up and meet me at the abandoned Chinese theatre behind Nanjing Road."

Arthur's breaths became short and rapid as he shouted over the phone, "Goddamit, Carter. WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"As I said, come unarmed and find out. If you disobey, you'll be sorry."

Arthur's heart raced as he heard Ariadne screaming in the background.

"STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHATEVER IT IS, STOP!" Arthur shrieked. The people in the lobby were staring at him now.

"You hear that, Arthur? Oooh, aren't you worried now. Come quick, or else."

Arthur's kneels buckled under him, and he sat on the floor, breathless and weak. His face was paler than ever. Eames walked up to him and nodded.

"Let's go find her."

**Please give me a review, it doesn't matter if it's long or short, good or bad. (:**

**Summary: **Eames, Arthur, and Ariadne go for a little short break to relax, only to face a terrible obstacle…


	11. Chapter 11: Evil

**Please give me a review! :) **

**Outline: Ariadne vs. Carter and a little something more.**

**Shanghai, China Carter's residency**

**10:00 p.m.**

What really happened was this. Ariadne had wanted to find a bathroom, only to be told by…a very strange lady that the only working bathroom was at a certain floor.

Ariadne knew the minute the blindfold wrapped miraculously around her eyes in the elevator of the forty-fourth floor. Of course, there could only be one person who'd want to capture Ariadne, and that would be Carter.

The elevator beeped open as Ariadne stared into the elevator mirror from behind. Her view was blocked almost immediately by a black blindfold, silky, smooth against her skin. "Cooperate this time, dear." Carter's voice, dark, artificial, and lonesome, rang in her alarmed ears. She'd felt his warm breath, tingling uncomfortably around her little wisps of hair, his frigid hands placed firmly on her shoulders, securing her from any form of escape. Ariadne tore her pistol from under her beige leather jacket, only to be knocked over by his flicking hand. "Enough with you and your amateur toys."

She was shoved in a back of a black with darkened windows and her hands tied behind her back. Carter looked back at her from the rearview mirror. "I apologize for this harsh method, but it's the only way I can ensure my own…safety. Not that you can get away by trying to kiss me again." He sniffed. "I was quite impressed with how you escaped last time, actually."

Ariadne stared daggers at him. "What do you want with us anyway?" She demanded.

"_**Revenge!"**_ He hissed.

"_**What did we ever do to you?"**_

"Oh, so much that your little lives won't ever be able to pay back."

He stopped the car in a dark garage and two people in black suits walked out from the door, holding Ariadne down. They dragged her in, tying her to a chair.

"Get her a coffee, Becca." Carter sat down on the couch, propping his feet on the table.

_Becca. Was she not Arthur's stepsister that he had mentioned once? Becca…the girl who he'd always hated. An enemy. But there is no time to think about that now. _

Carter looked at Ariadne, contemplating his next move. He decided to tell her about his story anyway.

"Long time ago, when the PASIV machine was invented, I had a project to take over the world. I negotiated with US officials, they'd agreed on performing inception on all presidents and high ranks to make the United States the highest power in the world and rule over all others. My project was going so well… I had all the support I'd ever need, more helpers and assistants than I'll ever use, and soon I thought, THE WORLD WOULD BE MINE! But no, nothing goes so perfectly. Your damned teammates, Mal, Cobb, Arthur's parents, Haze, they ruined everything. That's why I must kill them all."

Ariadne picked at the rope tying her to the chair. "You killed Arthur's parents."

Carter smirked. "Oh yes, I did. Revenge. I killed Mal, too."

"No you didn't. She committed suicide."

"That's what you all think, don't you? The truth is, when she began doubting reality, I'd given her more ideas to jump off that building. She wouldn't have committed suicide without Cobb, not until I gave her that final idea."

"Why didn't you kill Cobb, too?"

"I had plenty of chance to. But he's a talented one, I thought I could use him. And killing Mal gave me such pleasure, to see him in mental pain."

Ariadne shivered. Carter seemed like a lunatic, especially under this artificial light coming from the simple dangling light bulb, illuminating his pale face.

"What did they do, that makes you hate them so intensely?"

"Ariadne. Is it not clear enough why? First they run, steal my equipment, destroy all my plans, and kill…my soul mate. I'll never forgive them."

"Arthur says you killed Haze's lover, so Haze paid revenge on you. Now you're striking back again…" Ariadne closed her eyes.

"Haze and his stupid lover, they _**got in my way**_!" Carter stood.

"And you were putting the _**world**_ in jeopardy! They were just trying to save the world."

He laughed. "Ariadne, you're an intelligent one. I'd pay anything to have you on my side. Ruling the world, it's not something you can understand. It took me years, _decades,_ before I fully understood the glory of this idea. The world in my hands… Ariadne. My lifetime goal will be accomplished in no time. Work with me, I promise you, a big portion of my share…"

"No! I'd rather die doing the last I can to destroy you and your _revolting_ ideas than ever working with you."

Carter frowned. "That's a shame. But it's what I thought, too. It's exactly what Cobb had said. You're clever but one day you'd have to pay for your stubbornness. I suppose the least I can do is change your mind…_manually_." He took out a remote control and pressed a button. Suddenly the white wall flipped over and a gigantic network of devices faced them. "Just my newest creation. This saves a lot of time and incepts any idea to the human brain in just a single hour. Dom Cobb was my first experiment." Carter pressed another button. It revealed a gigantic glass tank. Cobb was floating inside, sucked by a million plastic tubes infusing chemicals into his body. "He's already been incepted. Now in the recovery process."

It's all Ariadne can do to hold her lunch in, seeing the appalling sight of Cobb, destroyed and useless. "God! What do you want to do with the world?"

"It's time for the new revolution, Ariadne! Open your eyes! A revolution with no nuclear bomb, no weapons, no army. Just simple inception can change the world."

"You're hurting not only the world, but yourself too. You're not going to survive with the outcome. It's too dangerous to imagine."

Cobb scoffed. "You and Cobb, you guys said just about exactly the same thing. Nobody will die in this revolution process. Nobody will die, but the ones who have been incepted…with my new machine." He laughed evilly. "Do enjoy your last moments in life, while you still have…your mind." He motioned to a servant. "Prepare the feast." He smiled. "The last and best meal you will ever receive." He got up and strode off, leaving her alone.

Ariadne shook her head, but no tears came. She thought back of Arthur, Eames, Yusuf, and the whole crew. About her family back home, her sisters who'd braid her hair and make her laugh. Arthur, what a shame to leave him behind. She would miss him. So, so much.

**Please give me a review :) **


	12. Chapter 12: The Lie

**Shanghai, China 10:00 p.m.**

**Eames's house**

"Arthur, calm down. Are you sure going straight to Carter's trap would be the best way to deal with this? There's ought to be a better way out of this!"

"What OTHER way is there, Eames? Yusuf is no help this time!"

"True…" Eames mumbled, shaking his head. Yusuf was a great addition to the team, when it came to dream making. But Yusuf was no good in reality, where shooting and running were the basics of survival.

Arthur flopped down on Eames's leather couch. He ran his hands through his hair. Eames noticed how his hair was beginning to fall in front of his eyes and his normally composed self was fading into pieces. Eames needed to help him, because he still felt this undeniable love for him. No matter who Arthur really felt for, Eames was there to save him from falling into any form of danger.

"Okay, then, Arthur. Where did Carter say to meet him?"

"At the abandoned cinema behind Nanjing Road." His answer came out in almost a desperate whisper.

"Of course." Eames sighed. Considering the circumstances, Carter would not kill Ariadne that easily. Of course, he was setting up the trap to capture all the crewmembers to complete his little goal, but Carter would obviously not take action before they arrived, or else he'd lose faith of all the players. "Arthur, this is going to take more than holding Carter at gunpoint or whatever pathetic way you had in mind. Carter's gone powerful, just like your physics teacher had said-"

"You mean Haze."

"Yes! Haze. Remember what he said about their past. Their hatred for each other, all resulted from murder."

"Carter wanted to dominate the world. With the PASIV machine and the other new invented technology."

"Exactly, Arthur! Carter seems very overboard with the idea, but it is not impossible. He's our next Hitler, my man."

Arthur looked down at his hands, finding himself to be trembling. If Carter wanted Ariadne's help for his goal to take over the world, then there must be something missing about him. A fact, a truth, a missing piece in this puzzle. "Why use Ariadne's help, when he has a complete database of people working for him, all under the same motivation, or a guarantee…"

"That is what you presume, darling. Haze said he had support in the OLD days. Who knows if he…still has the same support. With the whole turmoil going on inside the government, especially after your parents escaped, I think Carter is missing something essential to reach his final goal."

"Us." Arthur gasped. Everything clicked into place. "No matter what negotiations we make with Carter, we will all die in the end. All the people that work him, his presumed database, everybody. That guy is a lunatic."

"I second that. Arthur, you are the direct descendant of his greatest enemies in life. Aiden and Helena. I'm afraid, you're the biggest reason why Carter wants us."

Arthur shook his head. "There must be more than that. Haze had explained why my parents were enemies, but it was very vague. We need to go deeper into my memories again, Eames."

Eames rubbed his chin. "I see. But…How is that all the information we need is stored in YOUR memory, your subconscious, and through projections of past people? Crucial information that you can only obtain by communicating with those contacts inside your brain, but not directly through you?"

Arthur slumped. "I have no clue. These must be some things that I'd forgotten over the car crash."

Eames gaped. "YOU were in that car crash too? The one you told me about, where your mother died?"

Arthur sighed. "Yeah. I survived, somehow."

"That is valuable information, darling." Eames was deep in thought. "VERY valuable information. I think there is a hole that we've discovered in the well fabricated lie that you were made to believe all these years."

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"Remember what Haze had told us. Your father's death. Followed by your mother's…"

"And the failed attempt to murder me as well!" Arthur was startled. This truth grabbed at him, it was asphyxiating.

Eames nodded. "By the way love, you've never told me that."

"I wasn't too good at telling about my past. Especially when all that I've ever believed of my past was a fabricated lie."

"Tell me, Arthur. Who told you that your mother died in a car accident?"

"Well…my stepfather. Jon. Apparently."

"Was there a funeral?"

"Yes…I think so. It was very vague. I was still young."

"And your father's death? How did you know about that?"

"My mother told me."

Eames frowned. Arthur's answers weren't what he had hoped to hear. If there was somebody behind these murders, then the person to tell him all the lies must have been the same person, or, more precisely, from some sort of person working for Carter. To destroy, burn, erase.

"Look, Eames. We can't go on presuming things anymore. If we're to save Ariadne and Cobb, the most important thing is to ensure our own safety. We are the only ones left in possession of the PASIV machine." Arthur sat up.

"Then what is your point? Create more offspring to inherit the PASIV machine?" Eames smirked, eyeing Arthur's expression very closely.

Arthur's face was turning red. He adjusted his black tie. "We should talk to Haze once more to get the full story. Perhaps he can tell us something about Carter's disadvantages and real motives to help us figure this out."

"Very well." Eames sighed. Arthur was such a stick-in-the-mud. He looked at his Rolex. It was going to be another long night for his poor brain. Five whole hours in Arthur's subconscious dream was only 25 minutes spent in reality.

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	13. Chapter 13: Mastermind

**Shanghai, China 10:00 p.m.**

**Eames's house**

Chasing the shadows of unsolvable illusions and shades of the pastel sunrise up the highway tonight, Carter can feel the world turning under his tires.

_Finally, revenge would be played. After ten years of hard waiting, he had finally won again the endorsement of a powerful government. One which has agreed to carry out his plan. A genius plan. _

He pulled out the contract from his pocket, running his fingers across the glossy, golden engraved cover. The Official Government Body of The People's Republic of China.

Inside, was a top-secret document, directly handed to him by one of the highest ranks in the Chinese government. One candidate hoping to succeed power from the current president. Zeik.

Carter closed his eyes and thought of the conference held just an hour ago in that secretive meeting room. He was sitting right across from one the most famous, wealthy, and powerful men in the world, Zeik. Though he was not the president, he had enough power inside the Chinese government body. Through media, the _official_ president was presented to the citizens as a young, naiive man named Yanzi. In realitiy, he was a complete imbecile who failed to even realize that he was being watched, loathed by hundreds of the officials, officials all waiting for the right moment to assassinate him. Persuaded by many of inexperienced advisors, he was bound to ruin the country. Often, the masterminds who can change history behind closed curtains were the ones with the most evil of all minds. Carter smiled to himself. Soon, the world would be his. He checked his reflection on the black, shiny mirror of his private limousine, given to him as a gift from Zeik. Carter mused over his genius plan. _I am a mastermind! _

Two blocks away, Zeik splashed water on his face in the Men's Bathroom. His lucky days had finally dawned on him. A mysterious man, who went by the name The Mastermind, had contacted him, revealing the unbelievable power that he held in his hands. '_If you will help me, then you can become the next emperor of China in two hundred years. Think about it, an emperor! A new dynasty. With complete rule over the entire Chinese continent.'_

Zeik, he had first doubted this man, who seemed like a crazed lunatic. But slowly, Zeik had managed to convince him with his many demonstrations. Zeik's mind wondered to the first time they'd come across each other…

"Hello, Mr. Zeik? Sorry to disturb, but there is an important figure in need to meet you." A tall middle aged man, dressed in a uniform, knocked at his door.

"Now?" Zeik sat up in the darkness, realizing it was only 2:00 a.m.

"I apologize very deeply for disturbing. But this man…He claims that he has obtained further information regarding the assassination to President Yanzi."

"Bring him in. Advise him to sit at the meeting room. I will speak with him through the video call." Zeik had immediately got out of bed, stomping his sleepiness away with the recent news. More information about Yanzi. Time to start his dynasty.

"I aplogize again, Mr. Zeik. This man, he has identified himself as the Mastermind. He prefers to talk with you in person, as the video calls are always intricately monitered."

Zeik sighed. He realized to seize power he must sacrifice more than just a night's sleep. Putting himself in danger was the only way. "Okay. I will meet him at the living room."

"Shall I bring in my men to your security?"

Zeik hesitated. To leave Security out meant putting himself in danger, but absolute privacy. However, it was a simple and easy way to keep the privacy within the circle. Either kill off the guards after the meeting, or bribe them in some way. The secret would not be out. "Yes, Li. Call in the guards."

"Yes, sir. Your safety is my safety." Li smiled inwardly. He had a sense who this mysterious man was. A person to give more information about Yanzi, perhaps even the man volunteering to assassinate Yanzi himself! Li could hardly stand still, thinking about his bright future. Working for Zeik had never been the wrong choice. If this mysterious man is not opting to kill Yanzi, then he was going to kill the stupid president himself. Zeik was not the most powerful, but definitely one of the brightest. He was always up to date with top secret information, and Li nearly worshipped him. Soon, Zeik would rise to become the highest power. . Li would soon receive his promised one billion yuan, and he would finally move to the mountains, purchase a house, and live with nature and retire in peace.

Zeik inched down the dark staircase, breathing in the last remnants of the soft mist of the summer rain. His mind raced with a thousand possibilities. Soon he would become the next president. The next dictator, the next emperor. The power that would soon await him was hard to imagine, and so divine. He made up his mind. Zeik was willing to risk everything to gain that final rank of power. And then, everything in the world would be made available to him. Besides, what is there that an emperor could not have?

When Zeik's soft footsteps finally stepped over the last layer of the staircase, his heart began to pound in his chest.

"Don't move." A strange voice said in front of him. "Now follow every step that I say, or your life will be terminated."

Zeik's ego shook with rage, but he held up his hands in defense. It was no good, in such darkness.

"I am sorry, but this is the only way I can ensure our secret." The stranger whispered harshly.  
"Are you the Mastermind?" Zeik ventured.

"Yes. Order your men to leave, including the guards."

"How do I know you will not betray me?" Zeik's eyes began adjusting to the dark, and he saw a faint black figure opposite from him, about two feet away, closer than he imagined.

"You know I will not betray you, because I have traveled far to talk with you in person. Private matters. And I have put myself in danger to venture alone to this government residence. I am clearly outnumbered."

"And your purpose?"

"Two six nine, three four two." The stranger said in a low murmur.

Zeik gasped. This was indeed a member of the secret group, The Sparrows. It was a group created to protect the secret of the assassination of the current president, YanZi. The group's title corresponded with the president's name, though the connection was not clear to most of the officials, who knew little English. The string of numbers the stranger had just stated was their password to make sure the other was indeed a member, a person to be trusted. Zeik took out his small caller from his nightshirt pocket. "Li? Order your men to go back. There is no longer a need for protection."

"But, sir. Your safety is my-"

"Yes. But I am certain this visitor is one of us. This is a command, Li!"

"Very well."

Zeik hung up, looking back at the stranger. "Shall I open the lights?"

"No. We will talk in the darkness. There is much I am eager to tell you."

Zeik hesitated. If this man was part of the Sparrows, why was he so protective of his identity now? But it did not matter. There were more important things to be said. "Then do allow me to guide you to a place to sit for the conference."

The two men walked to a secretive meeting room at the end of the hallway. Zeik closed the door behind them.

"Before we speak, I have a question for you." Zeik said in a low whisper. Though they were nicely concealed, their voices could possibly travel to somebody's listening curious ear. No one could be trusted in the government body.

The stranger took off his black hood. "Ask away."

"If you are a member of the Sparrows, then why do you speak of traveling from afar? Or concealing your identity."

The cloaked man pulled out a chair to sit. "That is one thing I wanted to talk about, Zeik. What I am about to tell you will completely help you succeed in the Assassination. But in exchange, I request that you do not ask of my identity or where I come from. To ensure this…" He stopped for a moment. The sound of a pistol clicked into place. "As I was saying, to ensure that my privacy is not invaded, I ask that you swear an oath. This is a negotiation."

Zeik's heart raced, hearing the clicking of the gun. One moment he thought he was at the verge of life and death. The next moment he found himself at the verge of a decision. There's no such thing as a free lunch. Zeik let out a slow, shaky breath. "Okay. A negotiation."

"In exchange for the assassination of Yanzi, I ask that you agree on two conditions."

Zeik gasped. "Two?"

"Of course. What you are asking me to do is a murder. It is worth at least two things in exchange. It is only justice."

"Alright then. State your conditions."

"One, you will not ask or seek my identity. If you break this rule, then you will find yourself in great peril and your wish perished."

Zeik nodded eagerly. He was curious of this stranger who called himself the Mastermind, but he could control his nosiness if only Yanzi would be dead and he can rise to complete power. "And the second condition?"

The Mastermind sighed. "This, now, is the reason for my physical appearance to you. This, Zeik, is a show of friendship and will to cooperate."

Zeik stared at the stranger's moving mouth. He realized this was going to take more time than he thought. "What is this second condition?"

"That you will support me in my…methodology of this assassination."

"Of course!" Zeik felt better now. He thought the second condition would be some personal matters of the stranger, but it turned out to be the benefit for himself. Zeik was too wrapped up in this wondrous idea to realize how good this deal sounded. Too good.

"My methodology of murder will not be a gunshot, a poison, or any physical contact."

The ground below Zeik's feet seemed to fall like a rollercoaster. What was this stranger talking about?

"I will first terminate his mental well-being. It will only naturally force himself to commit suicide, thus not tracing the murder to any assassinator but himself."

Zeik opened his mouth to complain, but the Mastermind stopped him. "I know what you are thinking. Believe me, you will soon find that I live up to my Title. I have powerful and high tech weaponry. It beats the days of the nuclear age."

"Then, was it that high-tech secret that you are so certain of?"

The Mastermind grew tense. "That is violating the first condition. No inquiries about my personal privacy."

The wearied government official sighed. "Alright. Then perhaps you can answer this much: Why are you so fervent to help me?"

The Mastermind took out his silver cross from the inside of his black coat, hung on a chain. Even in the darkness, Zeik could see the cross clearly-a symbol of Christianity.

"You are a man of God!" Zeik said in awe. "And yet you comply to this murder…"

The cloak man nearly laughed in amusement. "Highly respected one, as a man of such high rank, I believe you also know of Yanzi's false naivety and corrupt ways to deal with world issues. He failed to end the uprisings in the coasts, and his way of stating peace is to send the foreign countries in protest a nuclear bomb, as rumor said.

Zeik wondered in surprise. So the truth has spread. There are even more people than before to support this assassination. "Very well, Mastermind. I put my trust in you, and highly regard your Faith. Do not fail me in this task, and I grant you your conditions freely."

The Mastermind shook his hand. "I am glad we have reached a compromise, dear Official. May I ask of one more small favor?"

"Yes. Ask freely. You are one of us." Zeik touched his lips in the hand sign of the Sparrows.

"Then, may I ask, to my embarrassment, for you to grant me transportation?"

Zeik swallowed in his amused grin. "Of course. A limousine will be provided for you and your wondrous services. It is the least I can do in return."

"Ah, thank you, Zeik." The cloaked Mastermind put back his black hood. "Do count it as a third condition, if you must."

Though it was dark now, both men grinned like school children.

…..

Now Carter leaned back in his new limousine, touching the little silver cross hung around his neck. He had no faith for this little symbol, but so far it has proven to be useful to persuade people. He took off his black cloak, wrapping it up and hiding it in his bag. No one must know that he was the Mastermind.


End file.
